The Lie
by adromir
Summary: The lie General Braddock tells his son comes with dire consequences.
1. Chapter 1

**General Braddock is constantly mentions in the Flashpoint series since Season 1, but strangely never makes his appearance. I am curious, which actor they would pick to portray his character. Maybe he'll appear in this coming last season. God, I hope so!**

**So now, here's a fic featuring these two Braddocks. Frankly speaking, I think this one is very challenging to me. I do the best I can in getting the issues and facts straight. If there are mistakes, I apologize beforehand. Any errors are purely unintentional.**

**SUMMARY: The lie General Braddock tells his son comes with dire consequences.**

* * *

"Hell, no. No way," Sam muttered in disbelief. His steps faltered as he stared at the large SUV parked by the entrance to the SRU headquarters. The tinted vehicle was completely black, the only color came from the pennant bearing a military emblem flapping on its hood. An outrider each stood sentry at its front and behind.

"What's wrong, Sam?" asked Raf, puzzled to see his teammate's odd reaction at the sight of the military cavalcade. Instead of answering, Sam shook his head and resumed his walk, his steps a lot faster and edgier. He yanked at his gloves with agitated moves and quickly disappeared into the building, leaving his teammates behind.

"What the—?" Dumbfounded, Raf looked at the others. "Was it something I said?"

Chuckling, Parker clapped the young man on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Raf. It wasn't you."

"This could only mean one thing. The General is here," Ed supplied, admiring the high-powered motorbikes escorting the vehicle.

"The General? You mean…"

"Yep. Daddy Braddock is in the house," Spike commented with a grin. "This should be _very_ interesting."

Jules looked concerned. "What do you think he wants with Sam?"

"I think we know why," Ed wryly remarked, arching an eyebrow.

Parker emitted a rueful smile. "The General still insists that Sam leave SRU, huh? We had better go in there and referee. If those two military hardheads start to clash, they might cause some casualties. "

It was a cold October evening. The day had already turned dark when Team One finally managed to resolve a three hours standoff in a legal office downtown. A hostage had gotten badly injured by the time the subject was fully contained.

It was a tough and lengthy takedown, so no wonder that the team's nerves were a little frayed around the edges. Much more so for Sam, who in his sierra position had not been able to get the solution shot he needed. Edgy and panicking, the hostage had taken matters into her own hands by wrestling the gun from the subject. Unluckily, the gun had gone off and hit her in the shoulder. Even though no one died, Sam just couldn't stop beating himself over it.

So, yeah. Sam was pissed. And his mood would not be getting any better with his father suddenly dropping by at the HQ. Braddock senior should prepare himself because his son looked like he was spoiling for a fight.

The moment Winnie saw him came in, she said, "Sam, your father—"

"I know. Where is he?" he curtly asked.

"In the briefing room."

Without breaking strides, Sam briskly headed towards where she had indicated. A tall, distinguished man was standing at the glass window, checking on the view outside. He turned when Sam entered, a small smile blossoming on an otherwise harsh and rough countenance.

"What are you doing here?" asked Sam, a little abrupt.

"Wow. That's a nice way to say hi."

Sam matched his father's direct gaze. "Sorry, sir. But you could've called."

"Why, don't I get to see you in your work place?" General Braddock inclined his head when he said this.

"I mean, you could've told me you were coming."

"Would your reception be any warmer than this if I did?"

"Sir—"

"Look, I'm here because I have something to tell you."

"What, you can't tell me by phone?"

His father shook his head, slightly exasperated. "Sammy, there's certain news that need to be told face to face."

Sam frowned. "What do you mean?"

General Braddock gazed at his son for a long moment, and was about to speak when something behind Sam caught his attention. He broke into smiles. "Ah, Sergeant Parker. Finally I got the honor to meet you."

Also smiling, Greg extended his hand for a shake. "A pleasure meeting you too, sir."

The General then greeted the rest of Team One. "And you must be Ed, the TL. The other bald guy. Sam tells me a lot about you."

Rolling his eyes, Sam muttered, "Great, here we go. Embarrass me, why don't you."

Ed chuckled. "Only the good things, I hope."

"Trust me, Ed. Sam holds you in high regards." The General shook hands with Spike next. "Hey there, Spike. I guess they call you that not because of your hair, but due to the sharpness of your brilliant brain."

This caused the team's computer wizard to grin. "I like you already, sir."

"And Raf, we sure need someone with your tough built in the field. What do you say?"

Laughing, Raf pumped the older man's fist. "Yeah, that could be the day."

Lastly the General turned to Jules, his face softening. "And you are none other than Jules, the sexy sniper chick. I can see why my son falls hard for you. Will you shoot me if I kiss your hand?"

"Oh, my god!" Sam exclaimed, his face reddening. "Dad, you've had enough fun embarrassing me? Come on, let's go talk."

"Butt off, Sam," Jules said, grinning as the Braddock senior pulled her hand to his lips. "See, we are good acquaintances already."

Sam could only watch in dismay as his teammates continued to converse cheerfully with his father. And when the General started to ruminate about his son's previous girlfriends, Sam decided it was time he threw a wet blanket on the entire happy bunch.

"Enough of that," Sam snapped. "General, come with me."

Giving the team a droll look, Braddock senior followed his son out of the briefing room and into a much smaller interview room down the hallway. Sam shut the door with a loud bang, enough to rattle the windowpanes.

Ed whistled, "Phew. If only I were a fly on the wall in that room right now."

"We have a camera in there," said Spike, innocently. "If you want, I can…"

"It was just a figure of speech, Spike," Parker laughed. "We should let the two Braddocks settle whatever issues they're having right now in privacy. As for us, the job's not over yet. Debrief in ten minutes."

They all groaned at that, and quickly rushed away for a quick change or some refreshments. Parker lingered behind, staring at the door of the interview room.

Ed had also paused. "Boss, what's wrong?"

"The General," Parker commented, frowning. "Something is off."

"What are you saying?"

Shrugging, the Sergeant then shook his head. "Maybe it's nothing. But I thought I saw fear in his eyes when he looked at Sam."

"The General? Fear?" Ed looked doubtful. "This is General _Badass_ we're talking about, Greg."

"Like I said, maybe it's nothing," said Parker, giving the team leader's shoulder a pat. "Okay, let's go. Debrief from hell is about to start. Perhaps Sam can later join us when the furnace is at full blast!"

* * *

"Alright. Now start telling me whatever it is that you came here to say," Sam demanded as he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

His father indicated the table and two chairs between them. "I think you should sit down."

"Dad, I don't—"

"_Sit_ down, Sammy," was the General's quiet yet terse order.

Pursing his lips, Sam scowled but did as he was told. "Fine. I'm sitting down. So what is it?"

After a brief hesitation, Braddock senior asked, "Have you talked to your Mom lately?"

Sam frowned, not expecting that. "Well, yeah. She called me just a few nights ago. Why?"

"And, Nat? Did you talk to your sister?"

"No, not since last week, after I sent her to the airport for her ten-day trip to Paris. Why all the questions? Is everything okay?"

When his father just stared at him, indecisively, Sam instantly knew something was wrong. "What is it, Dad? What's going on?"

The General let out a heavy breath, and said, "It's your mother."

"What's wrong with Mom?" Sam was quick to ask, "Is she alright?"

"Your Mom's in the hospital, Sam. She has a stroke."

Sam stared at his father without blinking. "What?"

"She suffers a stroke," Braddock senior repeated, pulling his gaze away from the shocking dread in his son's eyes.

"Wh…when?"

"Yesterday morning."

"_Yesterday_? How? I mean, she…she was fine when I talked to her that day, and…and…" Sam stammered, shaking his head in disbelief. He gave his father an accusing look. "Why didn't you tell me much sooner? You could have called me!"

"Get ahold of yourself. Shouting at me is not going to make things any better."

Contrite, Sam lowered his gaze. "Sorry, sir. So how is she now?"

"She is stabled, under close observation. But things could have gone a lot worse."

Swallowing hard, Sam nodded. "I want to go and see her."

"Of course. That's why I'm here, to collect you."

Sam looked gratefully at his father through misty eyes. "Thank you for telling me this personally."

"It's the least I could do, son," Braddock senior responded, patting the younger man's shoulder. "I know how it is to receive unfavorable news by phone. I just want to save you from the displeasure."

"Well, thanks again." Rising to his feet, Sam added, "I had better inform my team."

"Yes, you should."

Together they walked out of the room. By then, Team One had already reconvened in the briefing room. Their teammate's subdued expression caused them all to rise in concern.

"What's wrong, Sam?" Jules asked, resisting the urge to reach and give him a consoling hug. She could see that something had upset him greatly.

"It's my Mom," replied Sam, before telling them what had happened to his mother.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," said Parker, squeezing the General's arm. "How's she doing now?"

"She's responsive. The staffs at the National Defense Medical Centre are highly capable. My wife has the best of care." Braddock senior then draped an arm around his son's shoulder, adding, "I'm taking Sam back with me, if that's alright with you."

"Yeah, sure. No problem."

"That's what I'm here to tell you, Sarge," Sam said, "I'm applying for leave. But if you want me to sit for debrief, I can—"

"Sam," Parker interrupted, smiling kindly. "Don't worry about the paperwork. I'll take care of it. You have a family emergency, so…Just go with your Dad."

"Thanks, Boss." Sam nodded gratefully. To his father, he said, "I…uh…I'll go get my things. I won't be long."

"I'll be right here, son."

While waiting for Sam to return from the locker room, the team made easy talks with the General to lighten up the dismal mood.

"So, you're based in Ottawa now?" asked Ed.

"At the National Defense HQ, yes," confirmed Braddock senior, "Stuck behind the desk, counting days until my retirement."

"Missing the actions much, sir?" Spike teased.

"Tell me about it." He shrugged, "Who knows, instead of Sam rejoining military, _I_ might enlist into SRU!"

"Two Braddocks in one team?" Parker shook his head in mock horror. "Maybe _I_ need to retire."

When Sam returned minutes later, he had gathered his full composure, though he still looked anxious. "Okay, I'm ready."

"Right, let's go." Nodding at the team in farewell, the General headed towards the elevator.

Lingering behind, Sam shrugged sheepishly. "Feels like a four-year-old being picked up by his Dad from daycare center."

Chuckling, Ed patted his back. "Go see your Mom, Samo."

Sharing a last tender gaze with Jules, Sam moved and went after his father.

Even when the rest of Team One had settled back in their seats, Sergeant Parker continued to stare at the empty spots where the Braddocks had been standing.

"Boss?" Jules asked, "Is something the matter?"

"Huh?" He quickly whirled around, startled. "What?"

"Something's bothering you, Greg? Is this still about the General?" This came from Ed.

Frowning a bit, Parker took some moments to answer. "I can't shake the feeling that he is…I don't know, hiding something."

"Why do you say that?" Spike asked, exchanging baffled looks with Raf.

Parker was about to explain more, but then changed his mind. "Ah, forget it. Maybe I'm seeing too much into things."

He clapped his hands once and said out loud, "Okay, let's start post-mortem. Who's gonna go first?"

* * *

"You're very quiet."

Sam was pulled out of his reverie by his father's soft remark. Glancing at the older man, he scoffed half-heartedly. "That's understandable, isn't it? I'm very worried about Mom."

"She's gonna be fine."

"I have to see it to believe it," Sam said, turning to look out the window once more.

"We'll get there within four hours."

"Can't you make this fancy cavalcade of yours move any faster?"

"I'm a military General, Sammy, not the Queen of England," his father retorted. "This is faster than is allowed to. A speeding ticket is the last thing I need right now."

Rolling his eyes, Sam resisted from responding in kind. Sometimes his father could be a real pain in the—

His cellphone buzzed suddenly. Thinking the call was from his team, Sam quickly fished it out of his jacket pocket. He was astonished to see the caller ID. "_Mom_?"

Beside him, his father stirred in surprise. "Your Mom calls?"

"Yeah." Pressing the talk button, Sam spoke in a rush, "Mom, is that really you? How are you doing?"

"Why, sweetheart, I'm doing great."

"You're sure? Aren't you in the hospital?"

Sam could hear his mother's heavy sigh coming through the line. "He _told _you? I've reminded the General not to say anything to you about this."

At once, all kind of bells rang in Sam's head. "Tell me what, Mom?"

"That I fell down the stairs and broke my leg," she explained in a huff. "If it's up to me, I don't even want to spend my time here in the hospital, but I need to have a cast on. And at my age they are afraid I might have other complications. Go figure."

As his mother rattled on, Sam slowly turned towards the General. His father was staring back at him with a peculiar look on his face.

"So, Mom, you didn't get a stroke."

"_Stroke_? Whoever gave you that idea?"

His eyes drawing to a slit, Sam glared at his father as he replied through gritted teeth, "Sorry, Mom. My mistake. Anyhow, I'm on my way to visit you. Be there in a few hours."

"You're on your way _here_? Sammy, you don't have to. This is why I don't want to tell you. I hate to make you worry."

"It's alright, Mom. I'll be there."

"Oh, okay then. Actually I'm calling just to ask how you're doing. But now you're coming, I just can't wait to see you."

"Can't wait to see you too. Love you, Mom."

"I love you more, dear."

Sam rang off and immediately exploded, "Dad, what the f—"

"_Careful_, Sam."

"Don't use that tone with me," Sam fumed. "You lied, boldly to my face. What the hell?"

"I have reasons for doing this."

"_By kidnapping me_?"

"You can't call this kidnapping. I'm your father. Besides, you came with me at your own free will!"

"Under false pretenses. You duped me!"

"Would you agree to come if I had told you the truth?"

"You know I can't just drop everything and leave my unit at whim, sir. I'm on the job."

"Right. Your job is more important than your Mom," was the General's snarky remark.

"Don't you dare twist my words and pin this on me!" Sam shouted back, "What you did was wrong and you know it!"

"Yes, I know." His father sighed, looking slightly penitent. "But I like I said, I have my reasons."

"I don't care to know." Leaning forward, Sam told the driver, "Stop the car!"

Braddock senior sent him an exasperated look. "You can't give orders to my staff."

"Fine." Unbuckling his seatbelt, Sam grabbed for the door handle. "I can drop myself out."

"Wait!" His father quickly yanked him back, knowing that Sam seriously meant it, that he would jump off the moving vehicle. He was _that _stubborn. "Hold on, kid. I can explain."

Sam was about to tell his father to stuff it where the sun won't shine, but then he noticed the look of real fear that he had never seen before in the General's eyes. "Tell me what's going on, Dad. And no lies this time."

Sighing heavily, Braddock senior leaned back against the seat. "Yes, I lied to you. But I did it for your own safety."

"_My_ safety? What the heck you're talking about?"

"You're in danger, Sammy. Your life is under threat."

For a few moments Sam could only stare at his father, before he burst out laughing. "Dad, I'm an SRU officer. I'm no stranger to danger. My job puts my life on the line all the time. You should know that by now."

"I know that!" his father retorted. "But there are some people out there coming after you. Not even your team can protect you now."

"You're being ridiculous," Sam muttered, folding his arms with sullen air.

"And you're being so damned belligerent!"

"I've been lied to. What's _your_ excuse?"

At a loss for better words, the General just gazed at his son.

Seconds past. Finally, swallowing hard, he decided that it was time to speak up. A can of worms that had been kept secret for five years would have to be ripped open. "Listen, what I'm about to tell you will cause you to hate me."

Sam blinked, shaking his head. "I would never hate you, sir."

"You might change your mind after hearing this."

Giving his father his full attention, Sam urged, "Go on. Tell me."

"It's Matt. He's alive."

That threw him off completely. "_Who_?"

"Matthew Walsh," Braddock senior said. "As in, your best friend Matt."

Silence reigned as Sam sat there like a statue, gaping at his father, his whole world tilting on its axis. "What did you say? Matt…_my_ Matt? He's not dead?"

"Matt lives. He didn't die in Kandahar."

There. It was said. The secret was out. And it was time to face the ugly song.

All kinds of scenario was swirling in Sam's mind that he felt ill. Groaning, he hugged his belly, willing himself not to throw up.

_My God. Another lie, _he thought in dismay.

"Sam…"

"I killed Matt," Sam muttered. "I shot him from two kilometers away."

"It was not him that you shot."

"I saw his body, what was left of it."

"It was not his body that you saw," said the General. "That body was terribly disfigured by the .50 cal. It served the purpose. "

"Purpose? Pray tell me, what purpose?" Sam asked with a moan, his head in his hands.

"To stage Matt's death," explained the General. "Matt's tags were placed on the dead body, and their DNAs were then switched, so no one the wiser."

"Under whose orders?"

When his father didn't immediately answer, Sam looked up and barked, "I asked, whose orders, goddammit!"

"Mine."

Sam's bloodshot eyes were wide with incredulity. "You deliberately made me believe that I killed my own best friend? _Why_?"

"Because—"

With no warning, shots rang out and their vehicle was violently rammed from behind. Tires screeched as the SUV swerved out of control. It flew off the road at high speed before crashing nose first into a ditch, killing the driver on impact.

Without the restriction of a seatbelt, Sam was thrown about like a rag doll. After it was over, he found himself lying snug on the floor at the General's feet. His head hurt like a bitch but there wasn't time to complain. He instinctively went to grab for his sidearm, only to remember that he had left all his weapons back at the HQ. He was completely unarmed.

But his father was packing heat. The General pointed his Sig Sauer out the broken window and started to return fire. As he pulled himself upright, Sam demanded, "Give me the gun!"

Braddock senior shoved him back. "Forget it. Get down!"

"Me? _You_ get down!"

"Stop arguing with me!" the General shouted, throwing himself bodily on top of his struggling son before he continued shooting at their adversary. And then he just stopped shooting. In fact, he had entirely ceased moving, lying slumped over Sam.

Pinned underneath, Sam found it hard to breath. Pushing and shoving, he cried out for the General in sudden fear, "Dad? Dad, answer me!"

Finally free, Sam hurriedly inspected his father. To his horror, there was a bleeding wound on the older man's temple. His father had been shot in the head.

"No…no, no, no…You can't be dead," Sam muttered, close to breaking apart. With a huge feat of effort, he pulled himself together and made a grab for the gun in his father's lax grip. But by then their attackers, consisted of four dark-clad men, had surrounded the SUV, pointing their weapons and screaming at him not to move.

Stubborn to the core of his being, Sam raised his father's Sig Sauer at them and fired, hitting one of them in the chest. Before the others could shoot back though, the tallest of the men shouted, "Don't kill him! We need him alive!"

And so Sam pointed at him next, which proved a grave mistake. Another man had sneaked through the other door behind him. Whirling around, Saw was in time to see the butt of a gun slicing the air towards his head.

Then everything just turned painful black.

**TBC...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi, there! Sorry for the delay. A little hectic at the work place for a while there, but now it's okay.**

**So here's the next chapter!**

* * *

"Alright, then. Any questions?" asked Parker at the end of the debriefing. Members of Team One shook their heads in response, having nothing to add. They had pushed the unfavorable result of the last takedown behind them and were ready to move on.

"Okay." The Sergeant nodded and gathered up his files. "We have another hour before the shift ends so let's just take it easy, shall we?"

The alarm suddenly whooped through the speakers, followed by Winnie's voice, "Hot call for Team One. A shootout at Kingston Road."

"Guess I spoke too soon." Parker emitted a wry smile as they all leapt to their feet and rushed out of the briefing room to surround the dispatcher at her station.

"Where in Kingston Road?" Ed asked her.

"Near Scarborough Country Club," Winnie replied, eyeing her monitor. "911 calls are still pouring in. They all reported the same thing. Some men in a large van opened fire to a military cavalcade, causing it to crash. The hostiles continued shooting and then sped away heading north."

Jules gasped, while Parker and the rest of the team glanced at one another in shock.

"Military cavalcade? Are you sure, Winnie?"

"Absolutely, Boss."

"Kingston Road," Spike muttered, "That's the direct route to Ottawa."

"It's the Braddocks," Ed grimly remarked, already rushing off to get his gear. "Come on, guys. Let's go!"

"Boss?"

Parker paused at the dispatcher's soft call. "Yeah, Winnie?"

After a brief glance towards Jules who was running along with the guys, she quietly said, "There're some casualties."

The Sergeant nodded, not liking what he heard. Walking away, he told her, "Put Team Four on standby, Winnie. Things might get uglier. And keep sending us updates."

"Copy that, Sarge."

Minutes later the team was on the road, sirens wailing and cherries flashing. It had been raining a while ago, so the asphalt was wet and slippery. Ed kept his foot firmly on the accelerator, pushing the SUV to its limit while praying that it wouldn't hydroplane.

Next to him, Parker began to mutter to himself, "I _knew_ it. I just knew something's not right. Why did I let them go?"

"Boss, you couldn't have known," Ed responded, "Maybe it's not the Braddocks after all."

"How many military cavalcades do you think are using that route tonight, Eddie?" The Sergeant shook his head, and added. "My gut feelings tell me it's them. I should have listened to my instinct."

"What could you possibly do anyway?"

"I don't know. I should have done _something_, at least. I could have confronted the General but _no_, I let him take off with Sam when I could tell that something was clearly wrong. Damn it."

Ed reached over and patted his arm. "We'll get there, Greg."

In the other SUV behind them, Jules was at the wheel. She hit on the gas until the front hood almost kissed the bumper of the vehicle in front.

Riding shotgun, Raf glanced nervously at her as he tightened his grip on the door handle. "Hey, take it easy. We all need to get there in one piece."

Jules' only response was a fierce glare, and Raf almost ducked for cover before he quickly checked himself. Sitting in the back seat, Spike had eyes only for the screen of his computer as he calmly said, "Leave her be, Raf. Complain of her driving one more time and she's gonna kick you out just to lighten the weight."

When they finally arrived at the scene, Team One had their biggest fear confirmed. It was indeed the Braddocks'.

An ambulance had already got there, and the paramedics were bending over someone inside the wrecked SUV. Two high-powered motorbikes lay discarded like unwanted broken toys near their riders. Blankets that covered the dead soldiers were spotted with blood, thanks to the numerous bullet holes on their bodies. Several patrol cars were blocking half the road, barricading the area from a handful of curious bystanders who flocked about like swarming flies.

Parker immediately demanded the attention of the first responders. "What do we have?"

"Three males D.O.A.," one of the Unis explained. He pointed at the wreckage. "And a man in there is still alive but barely. All military personnel."

"Witnesses saw a large van rammed into the back of the SUV and ran it into the ditch," added the other patrolman. "Then the two sides were changing fire. Sounded like a battlefield out here."

"Looks like it too," Raf remarked, toeing at the bullet shells scattered on the ground.

"Boss."

The Sergeant turned at the team leader's quiet voice. "Yes, Eddie?"

Standing near the wrecked SUV, Ed replied, "Sam is gone."

Parker jerked in reaction, the blood draining off his face. Seeing this, Ed quickly interjected, "No, Greg. I didn't mean it that way. Sam is missing. We found no sign of him, except for his Dad."

Frowning, the Sergeant rubbed down his chest over his racing heart. "Well, where is he? What happened to him?"

"Maybe Sam is out there somewhere in the dark," Jules suggested, indicating the woods that bordered the road. There was a slight tremor in her voice. "He might be badly hurt from the crash, disoriented and confused, doesn't know where he's going."

"Or maybe the gunmen have taken him along with them," added Raf.

"Too many maybes and no exact answer. Get me something concrete, guys."

"I know a way, Boss," Spike said before he ran off to get back behind his computer, "I can get the feed from the traffic cameras nearby. They will show us what had happened from different angles."

"Good call, Spike. Tell us the moment you get something," said Ed. Giving Jules' shoulder a reassuring squeeze, he went to join Parker. "Boss, this whole situation starts to look like a planned hit to me."

"I believe so too, Eddie," the Sergeant seriously agreed. "This is not random. The Braddocks have been the target all along, and I'm sure the General already suspected this was coming. That's why he acted so peculiar, dropping in at the HQ out of the blue like that."

"And the news he brought, about his wife having a stroke?"

"Let's check if there's a truth in that." Parker then spoke through radio, "Winnie, call the National Defense Medical Centre. Find out about Sam's Mom, how she's doing."

"Copy that."

Shaking his head, Parker met Ed's eyes. "I don't like this at all. Something big is going on. This is a lot more complicated than we used to deal with."

"Well, your instinct has been right so far, as per usual."

Shortly after, Winnie returned with her report. "Sarge, I just spoke to the doctor who attends to Mrs. Braddock. He confirmed that she is indeed hospitalized. But for a broken leg, not stroke."

Parker and Ed exchanged looks at that. "The General _lied_ to his son? Why did he do that?"

Spike chose that moment to call out, "Guys, you had better take a look at this."

The whole team rushed to join him at the computer. "What you got, Spike?"

"This comes from those traffic cameras over there," Spike said with a nudge of his chin towards two electric poles flanking the road. "I managed to gather the recording from fifteen minutes ago. Here, see for yourself."

The screen had been split into two, showing both the north and south part of the road. They intently watched as the mundane traffic suddenly erupted into chaos when the Braddocks' cavalcade was attacked by a large van. Shots were fired and the two outrider motorbikes skidded out of camera range in a shower of sparks, while the targeted SUV swerved out of control before landing into a ditch with a sickening crash. Six men poured out onto the road and continued shooting with their semi-automatics, a short moment before someone inside the SUV started to return fire. One man dropped to the ground when he got hit but his friends resumed their approach. And then everything just stopped until the last shot was fired, hitting another man.

Sam was then dragged into view. He appeared unconscious when they carried him to their van. After collecting their fallen comrades, the mysterious vehicle zoomed off at high speed as other motorists frantically got out of their way.

Uneasy silence settled on Team One as the computer screen switched back to command mode, which Spike reclaimed control.

"Raf was right. They took Sam." Jules' voice was in a whisper, her face turning white with fear.

Ed tried to ease her worries by saying, "At least he is still alive."

"We don't know that!"

"They wouldn't have taken him if he's dead, right? Or there would be no point to this attack. They need Sam for something." Meeting her direct gaze, Ed added, "We will get him back, Jules. But for that you need to keep your cool. If you can't do this—"

She stiffened. "I'm on the job. I can do this. Don't tell me differently."

"Okay." He patted her shoulder before turning to Parker. "What do you want to do, Boss?"

The Sergeant looked determined as he responded, "Find Sam."

As if on cue, someone roared from the direction of the wrecked SUV. "Get your hands off me! I'm not dead yet now stop bugging me!"

Whirling around, they saw a tall man in a military uniform pushed his way between the paramedics and stumbled unsteadily towards them. Blood was trickling down from his head wound. Grumbling with annoyance, he wiped it off in one jerky move and demanded, "Tell me, where is he?"

They all stared back at him, surprised to see him alive and on his feet. And terribly pissed. "General?"

"I asked you a question, Team One. _Where the hell is my son_?"

* * *

Sam alternately moved in and out of consciousness until all senses returned to him at a slow and sluggish pace. The first thing he felt was pain. Lots of it. Pain in his head, in his side, in his head, in his shoulder, and back to his head. Attempting to clear the cobwebs off his brain, he shook his head like a dog.

"Ow…" he moaned as the pain intensified.

_Great move, Braddock. Maybe you should just bang your head against the wall, _he dryly thought_. _

As he cracked his eyes open, Sam found himself in a dimly lit room. A naked bulb above him the only source of light. Even that made him wince, so strong his head was hurting. Blood covered one side of his face, he could feel it. He reached up to inspect his injury, or tried to. He couldn't even move his arms. In fact, he could barely move at all. He was bound hand and foot to a chair.

"Son of a bitch," he cursed, struggling against his bonds. But the nylon rope wouldn't give. All he got were abrasions and cuts from the effort.

And then everything came back in a rush. He remembered it all with sudden clarity—his Dad dropping by at the HQ, his Mom suffering a stroke, his Mom _not_ suffering a stroke, Matt being alive, all the lies. And the General, shot down right in front of his eyes.

His father. _Dead_.

Unbidden tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he whimpered, "Dad, you bastard. You stupid stuck-up bastard…"

A sudden sound from the other side of the room caused him to jerk in surprise. He had thought he was alone, but the rustling of clothes meant someone else was in the room with him. Squinting against the dim light, Sam noticed a figure sitting slumped in a corner, arms bound behind his back.

It was a figure of a man, who weakly raised his head and stared back at him. His face was bloodied and terribly bruised, one eye almost swollen shut. Barely recognizable, but it was a face that Sam had never forgotten.

"M…_Matt_?"

Emitting a sad smile, the man responded in a raspy voice, "Hey, Sam. Long time no see, brother."

* * *

"Sir, it's time you come clean with us," were Sergeant Parker's firm words to the General.

As expected, the imposing Braddock senior instantly retaliated. "You do not have the authority to give me orders!"

"In this situation, I _do_!" Parker snapped back, standing chest to chest with the other man. "Sam is part of my team and some people have taken him. I want to know who and what we're dealing with, and I'm sure you can tell me that."

"I'm not telling you anything."

"You have to if you want us to find Sam."

Braddock exhaled in disgust. "You don't understand. I really can't tell you. It's a need-to-know basis. Military secret ops."

Parker drew his eyes to a slit, so angry that he was. "Oh, is that it? You're afraid that we'll step on each other's toes here? Listen, General. What we care most right now is getting Sam back. That's our _job_. You got to let us do it."

"He is _my_ son!"

"Don't you think we don't know that?" It was Ed's turn to fume. "I'm a father, Greg's a father. We both understand why you did what you did, lying to your son about your wife. Yes, we already found out she doesn't get a stroke. You lied to protect Sam from something or someone, but it didn't work. Get it? It _didn't_ work. Sam is now taken and you're the only one who knows the reason why."

Softening his voice, Ed added, "Look, we all can stand here and argue until our faces turn blue but it would not get us anywhere. The longer we dally, the more time we waste in getting Sam back. Unless you tell us what the hell is going on, he's as good as dead. So help us do our job, sir. Give us at least something so we can find your son."

Abruptly, the General turned around and walked a few steps away, head shaking. His arm's akimbo, he looked up to the sky, as if seeking for answers that could be written there. A full minute later, Braddock senior returned to the group.

"Alright." He sighed in resign. "I'll tell you but not the whole thing, just enough so that you can understand why this is happening. It's already an open secret, anyway."

"What do you mean?" Jules asked him. "What does it has to do with Sam?"

"It has _everything _to do with Sam," Braddock replied, looking straight at her. "It's about Matt."

Raf frowned. "_Matt_? Sam's late best friend?"

The General briefly closed his eyes and solemnly said, "Matt is not dead."

They all blinked stupidly back at him like deers caught in headlights. "_What_?"

"Matthew Walsh is alive. He didn't die in Kandahar."

"But Sam shot him."

"He didn't. Sam shot someone else." And so he proceeded to tell them what he had told his son earlier, about staging Matt's death. He noticed the shock registering on their faces before it quickly changed to anger.

"Let me get this straight," said Ed, seething, after the General had stopped talking. "You _deliberately_ made Sam believe he killed his own best friend?"

"Those were Sam's exact words when I told him and, yeah, that's correct."

"Give me one good reason not to deck you right here, right now. _Sir_." Surprisingly, it was Spike who came forward to challenge the General, his dark eyes blazing with real fury, his hands balling into fists

"Spike." Sergeant Parker reached across to pull him back, but he needn't worry. The team's computer wizard was not going to punch Braddock in the face. _Yet._

"Matt was involved in a black op in Kabul when something went horribly wrong. His cover was blown and certain people went after him because of the classified information he had," the military man explained. "To save his life, Matt had to disappear permanently. What better ways to disappear other than being dead? And so we decided to 'kill' him."

Jules was incredulous. "And you pinned Matt's 'death' on Sam? Didn't you ever think what it would do to him, how he would feel?"

"I expected him to be greatly devastated, yes. In fact, I was counting on it. That was why we did it."

She gripped the butt of his Glock, as if getting ready to use it. "Cold and heartless. I can't believe you actually did that to your own son."

"Listen, Sam was not involved in the black op but those people found out how tight he and Matt were. With Matt gone, who do you think would be targeted next?" the General grimly asked her. "Matt's unexpected death was suspicious enough by itself, those people wouldn't have easily bought it. But it was Sam who accidentally 'killed' his best friend and his grief was _very_ real, so it left no doubt about Matt's demise. The ploy worked and they left Sam alone. They fully believed that he knew absolutely nothing about the op, which was exactly true. We staged Matt's death to protect both him _and _Sam. It was the only credible way."

Quietly, Sergeant Parker asked him, "So where is Matt now?"

"Matt was given a new identity after Kandahar, and he has been running other black ops for me, on a condition that he never set foot back here." The General then shook his head. "Seventy two hours ago, we lost contact with him. Our intelligence came back reporting that he has been briefly sighted at his old home."

"But his father is dead, his Mom is in a caregiving house for Alzheimer patients, and his sister Michaela is currently in a rehab."

"Yes, we're well aware of that. He has returned here for something else." Braddock senior sighed, and added, "There's a latest development on the old black op, and now Matt has gone missing. His cover is blown. _Again_. This also means bad news for Sam."

"Whoever those people are, they know Matt is still alive and they think Sam is involved from the very beginning." Parker was thoughtful as he asked, "What's the black op was all about, generally? What is so important that men were killed tonight? What do they want with Matt and Sam?"

"They want the codes."

"Codes to what?"

"A broken arrow."

"A _what_?"

After a brief hesitation, Braddock answered, "A missing nuclear warhead."

Members of Team One exchanged horrified looks at that, which Jules summed it up with a short snarky remark, "Awesome."

* * *

"You don't look surprise to see me," Matt said with a wan smile on his battered face.

Turning his gaze away, Sam swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. "Because I already knew you're alive."

"You don't look exactly happy, either."

Sam sent him a sharp glare. "I just found out I've been deceived by the people I trust the most, so excuse me if I'm not in a reunion mood right now."

Former Sergeant Matthew Walsh lowered his head and took some moments to gather himself. "The General has told you?"

"Yeah. Right before they shot him dead."

Matt's head snapped back up. "_What_?"

"My father's dead!" Sam shouted back, "I don't know why they killed him, I have no idea what the fuck is going on, so you had better start talking, buddy. Put me in on the loop or I swear I'll shoot you myself so that you _stay_ dead!"

Grimacing, Matt leaned forward, as if to reach out to his friend. "It's safer that you don't know."

"Don't give me that bullshit! You owe me an explanation."

"Sam, please listen—"

"_Don't_, Matt," said Sam, already weeping. "Stop with the excuses. I'm already involved in whatever the hell this is. Keeping me ignorant is not only stupid but downright heartless. I deserve to know what's happening, and I have the rights to be told the truth. It is time I know why I was lied to, why I've been played for a fool. I thought…I thought I killed you, Matt…my own best friend…"

For a long while, the only sound in the room was Sam's quiet whimpers and Matt's hitching breath. The tension was so thick a knife could have sliced it into two.

And then, stifling a groan, Matt slowly pushed his abused body forward, slithering across the dirty floor on his rump towards his distraught friend. He was terribly hurting, completely drained after days of mental and physical tortures. But as part of Special Forces, he had been trained for it. He had high levels of endurance and could take anything they gave him. His captors knew this too, and so they took a different approach.

What Matt feared most had finally happened. Sam was brought into the equation and the game was about to change.

"I have no words to show you how terribly sorry I am, Sam. It was cruel what we did to you but it had to be done," Matt quietly said. "You can't imagine how tough it was for me to agree to that decision."

"And you can't imagine what I went through," Sam retorted, holding Matt's gaze.

"I know it must have been hard for you—"

"_Hard_? Shooting you was easy-peachy, only it wasn't you that I shot," was Sam's sarcastic reply. "What's hard was when I tried to shoot myself in the mouth. Oh, you don't know? Yeah, three days after you 'died', I tried to eat a bullet but had not enough courage to pull the trigger. How's that for a thought, huh?"

Matt's stared at him in shock. "You attempted suicide?"

"No, I wanted to know how a bullet tasted like if I swallowed it at high velocity!" Sam snapped. "What do you think I am? A moron?"

Shaking his head, Matt said, "I think you're the most fearless person I've ever known. If I were in your place, I would be _that_ coward who pulls the trigger. I don't think I could go on with my life if l had killed you with my own hands. I'm not that strong, Sam. Not like you."

Pursing his lips, Sam restrained himself from saying things that he might regret later. He took a deep breath and demanded to know, "Who are these guys, Matt? And what have they done to you?"

"These people were the reason why I had to disappear five years ago. I should have known that someone out there still puts tab on me. One stupid mistake and here I am. These men have tried everything they could think of to make me talk."

"They sure roughed you up pretty bad. But you were born with an ugly mug so not much damage there," Sam said in a light humor, causing Matt to grin. "So, what do they want from you?"

Matt shrugged. "Some codes."

"What codes?"

"Remember the last leave I took to come home because my Mom was sick?"

Sam nodded. "Sure, I remember. And when you returned to base, you looked as if she had died. That night we got stupidly drunk, and we sang and howled to the moon like lunatics."

"Yeah, that was good times." Soft laughter escaped Matt's lips. And then he sobered. "I didn't go home, Sam. I didn't even go far. It was a black op in Kabul."

Sam opened his mouth to say some heated words on that, but changed his mind and shook his head.

"The codes they're after?" Matt continued, "These men can't have them, or millions of people will die. I must—"

The door suddenly burst open and three men rushed into the room, cutting short Matt's explanation.

One of them, the tallest guy, stepped forward and sneered down at the two captives. "How's the reunion going? Sorry, fellas, no more chit chats. Let's get down to serious business."

"Rob, just let Sam go. He has no part in all this. He knows nothing," said Matt in his friend's defense.

"Sure, Matt. Anything you say. Just let us be sure of that first, okay?"

His grin turning into a fierce scowl, the man named Rob kicked Sam in the chest so hard that his chair toppled over backwards. When it hit the floor, so did the back of Sam's head, causing him to black out for several moments. He woke up to Matt's shouts, telling those men to stop.

Ignoring Matt, Rob signaled to the other two men and they immediately got to work. After placing a dish towel over Sam's face, one of them attached a long pipe to a nearby faucet and turned it on. Sam couldn't see a thing, but by listening to the sounds around him he could fathom what they were about to do.

Waterboarding.

It was something Sam was familiar with. During his Special Forces days, he went through several excruciating exercises to prepare himself for the tortures he might suffer if being captured. Among his comrades, he was the one who could last the longest.

Only this time it was real. This was no exercise.

"Sam Braddock, thanks to your buddy here, you get to join the party," Rob said. "If you want to go home, you'd better tell us what we want to know. What are the codes?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"They always said that, don't they? Corny." Grinning at his men, Rob then nodded. "Let us begin."

Amid Matt's angry cries, they aimed the flowing pipe at Sam's face, right over his nose and mouth. Despite his intense training, Sam couldn't stop himself from reacting in panic. He bucked and jerked against his bonds as his air was completely cut off, to be replaced by the unforgiving gushes of water.

Seconds turned into minutes, and the minutes continued to drag on. Sam couldn't remember how long he had persisted on the last exercises, but it felt much shorter than this. If they didn't stop now, he would drown!

As if hearing Sam's thought, they turned off the water pipe and pulled his chair back into the upright position. Shaken uncontrollably, Sam could only sit there, choking and gasping for air as Rob asked him, "The codes, Braddock."

Coughing and spitting water, Sam responded, "I don't know what codes you want, man. But I have one code I serve to honor. It's 'Keep the Peace'."

His eyes drawing to a slit, Rob swung his arm and punched Sam in the jaw.

Blood spurted from Sam's split lips, but he just grinned in return. "Not the correct answer? Sorry. I'm a dumb blonde."

"Sam." Matt was shaking his head, exasperated by his friend's taunting of their captors.

"What?" His eyes widened innocently, Sam shrugged. "I'm just saying."

"You think you're a funny guy, huh? Let's see if you can still laugh after this." With a low growl, Rob tied the dish towel around Sam's eyes, blindfolding him. And then they shoved his chair against the wall. Someone nearby clicked off the safety of a gun. An MP5, Sam recognized in dismay.

"No, stop. You don't need to do this," Matt was saying. Pleading, in fact. "Just leave him alone. He doesn't know anything and that's the truth."

Rob laughed. "He might not know a thing but you do, Walsh. Tell us the codes, before we drill your friend with lots of bullet holes until he resembles a Swiss cheese."

Matt said nothing, but Sam could hear him swallowing hard.

"Come on, Walsh," Rob's voice again, "Clock's ticking. Sammy here doesn't have much time and I'm growing impatient. What are the codes?"

"I…I can't tell you," Matt finally said. And then he whispered, "I'm so sorry, Sam."

Biting his lower lip, Sam nodded. "I understand, brother. See you out there. If not…"

"I'll send you a postcard."

Sam almost laughed.

Although he couldn't see, Sam could sense it when the men focused their full attention on him. He even knew when they raised and aimed the gun. He was about to die, and he saw his entire life flash quickly by in front of him. He saw his team at the SRU, he saw Jules, his parents and sisters, everyone that had ever mattered to him.

Even with the blindfold on, Sam shut his eyes and accepted his fate.

"Fine, Walsh. You just signed your friend's death warrant." Rob's voice was like thunder as he shouted, "Shoot him!"

And they fired.

**TBC...  
**

**So...love that cliffie? **

**Sorry. I just couldn't help it. Hehe..**

**Hang on, guys. Just hang onnnnnnnnnn!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello, there.**

**Okay, this chapter is the hardest part—for me, for Sam, and also for some of you out there maybe. Readers' discretion is truly advised, so go carefully. Consider yourself warned.**

* * *

It all happened so fast that at first Sam couldn't understand what was going on.

When Rob shouted the command to shoot, something heavy slammed into Sam's chest amid the loud burst of gunfire. Strangely though, he didn't feel much pain except for a sharp sting on his right bicep. And yet he could tell the exact moment the bullets hit his body.

Wait, that was not right. It wasn't his body that got hit but someone else's, slumping over him. Whoever it was had jumped between him and the gun, acting as shield.

"Stop, stop! Hold fire, goddammit!" Rob was yelling. The shooting instantly stopped, leaving a heavy silence and a high stench of cordite inside the room.

Sam was staggered to discover that he was still breathing. But at what cost?

"Wh…what…what just happened?" he stammered, dreading the answer. His question went ignored as his three captors began to curse, throwing accusations at one another.

"Shit! He's dead!"

"You stupid fool. Why didn't you hold on to him?"

"How would I know he's gonna do that? I never thought he could still manage to get up."

"He's Special Forces. Of course he'd get up, you moron! They are like cockroaches. You stomp them under your boot, they'll just come up for more."

"What do we do now?"

"Check his vitals. Is he really dead?"

The heavy weight atop Sam was suddenly lifted, leaving behind trails of warm blood seeping into his shirt. He swallowed hard and demanded to know, "Hey, what the hell's going on? Matt? _Matt_!"

"You want to know what happened?" Rob growled in anger before he yanked the blindfold off Sam's eyes. "See for yourself, Braddock!"

Blinking a few times to adjust his vision, Sam frantically searched for his friend. His face drained of all color when he saw Matt lying crumpled on the floor in a fetal position, eyes staring wide open. There were no signs of life whatsoever, only the blood that still trickled from several bullet holes in his back. Another bullet had pierced the nape of his neck, killing him instantly.

After all the tortures and abuses he had suffered, after everything he had gone through to save the lives of millions, Matt had sacrificed his own for Sam's.

Sam started to tremble, unable to drag his eyes away from his friend's blank gaze. He recalled the heated exchange they had just shared and regretted it immensely. If he could just turn back time, he would tell Matt how terribly happy he was to see him alive. But it was all too late. Matt was now and truly dead.

"Why do people keep jumping all over themselves to take the bullet for you, huh?" Rob was asking him with a sneer.

But Sam couldn't respond. He had gone completely numb. And cold. So cold as if there was ice in his veins instead of blood.

"First your father, and now your friend," Rob continued, having no concern of Sam's inner turmoil. "How many more people have to die until you spill it? Tell me, Braddock, what are the codes?"

Without looking away from Matt's lifeless body, Sam wearily shook his head. "I do not know any codes."

Growling with frustration, Rob grabbed a handful of Sam's shirtfront. "He must have told you something! Now what is it? The codes, Braddock. Tell us now or we will—"

"Or you will what?" Sam shot back, "Do whatever you want but I still can't tell you anything because I know nothing! No matter what you do, you won't get the answer you seek. Even if I _do_ know, I would never tell you, you sick bastard!"

Rob was briefly deep in thought before he took out a switchblade. Tracing the sharp tip teasingly around Sam's left eye, he softly said, "You were a sniper, weren't you? I believe you still _are_, the SRU hotshot sharpshooter. You need eyes to see who you shoot. You need eyes to _see_. Period. Those clear blue orbs are perfect for souvenirs, don't you think?"

Sam gulped as the knife went a bit deeper at his brow, pricking him until he bled.

"What, no smart comeback?" Rob was grinning. "Think real carefully, Braddock. Matt must have told you something of significance. What is it?"

"He told me nothing," Sam replied through gritted teeth.

"I don't believe you. I'm asking you again, before I start gouging your eyeball. Now tell me—"

"Hey, Rob." Another man suddenly appeared at the door.

This caused Rob to whirl around and snapped, "_What_?"

The man held up a cell-phone and sheepishly said, "A call for you. It's _him_."

Rob's face went into a fascinating transformation. From anger, his expression abruptly changed to consternation. Even fear. Aware of Sam's scrutiny, he quickly gathered his wits and straightened up, sending his captive a glare. "I'm not done with you yet. You had better have the answer for me when I get back."

Grabbing the cellphone, Rob rushed out of the room with his men. They pulled and shut the door behind them, leaving Sam alone with his dead friend.

Then and only then, Sam let the tears fall. His entire frame shook uncontrollably as he tried to stifle his sobs. He stared beseechingly at Matt's white face, willing him to show any signs of life. But he knew it was empty wishes. Matt was beyond help. Nothing could bring him back.

"Forgive me, Matt…Oh, brother, I'm sorry…" he wept, "I'm so sorry…"

Tied to a chair and unable to go near his best friend who lay dead at his feet, Sam looked up to the ceiling and let out an animal-like howl.

* * *

"Spike, any luck?"

With his eyes fixed onto his computer screen, Spike shook his head. "Nothing much, Boss. I can't get a reading on the plate number. It was deliberately spattered with mud, so no way to trace it. I managed to track the van through several more traffic cameras but it was moving too fast. After a couple of miles, I lost track of it somewhere. It might have ventured into some quiet streets that we have no eyes on."

"Never mind, Spike. You've tried." Parker patted the younger man in the back. He then spoke into his radio, "Winnie, where's my command truck?"

"Minutes away, Boss. Team Four is bringing it to you."

At the exact moment they all heard the sound of sirens approaching, followed by the familiar sight of the SRU's customized mobile command post. "Thanks, Winnie. It's already here."

Ed nudged his chin towards General Braddock who was busy talking on his cellphone yards away, out of their hearing. "He's been at that for a while now. What do you think he's up to?"

"He's a military man, Eddie," said Parker. "There must be some red tapes he needs to clear with someone higher up the totem pole."

"I thought _he_ is at the top of the totem pole."

Before the Sergeant could respond to that, Braddock finished his call and returned to the team. "That's my men. The fastest they can make it here is in another ten hours, but Sam doesn't have that much time."

"_Your_ men? Black Ops team?" Raf was interested to know.

Braddock gave him a look. "It's classified."

Raf just shrugged. "Fine, but how can they help? They know where Sam is?"

"Not yet," Braddock said. "But they can help show us Sam's current location. Or rather, my computer wizard will talk to _your _computer wizard."

Spike blinked, while the rest of them stared at the General.

"How would they do that? They're not even here," Jules pointed out.

"They don't need to be here to tell us where Sam is."

Ed frowned. "They already have intel?"

"Something like that." Braddock looked a bit awkward as he added, "We can pinpoint Sam's whereabouts via his GPS tracking chip."

"GPS tracking chip," Parker echoed, nonplussed.

"Yeah, I had it implanted on him."

"But he never told us."

"That's because he doesn't know he has it."

The team was understandably astonished. "How is that possible?"

"A few years back, the night he told me he decided to join the military, we both went to a bar and got roaringly drunk. When we returned home, I drugged him some more and called in my tech specialist to give Sam the implant shot while he was out cold."

For several long moments, Team One could only gape at him in bewilderment. Not only did he act blasé about drugging his son, the General seemed to think that implanting a tracking chip in one's own child was actually a normal thing.

"That's…uh…" Ed shook his head, finding some trouble to shake off his shock. "Why did you do it without Sam's knowledge? Didn't he have any say on it?"

Braddock snorted. "If it's up to Sam, he would never even get any immunizations in his entire life. That kid is scared shitless of needles! Let alone an implant gun. Why do you think he never has any tattoos?"

"That's right. He doesn't have any." Spike nodded in agreement. "Where's the chip planted?"

"In his upper back, between his shoulder blades."

Jules' eyes widened. "Yeah. I've noticed the slight bump once. When I asked him about it, he said…"

Realizing that everyone was staring at her, she cleared her throat and quickly changed topic. "Okay, what do we do now?"

The General's phone rang then. He answered it, spoke a few words and passed it to Spike. "It's my techie man, 'Brainy' Brian. Just call him Brainy. He's going to send you some link to a program, so why don't you guys chat it up and…well, do your stuff."

"On it." Spike grabbed the phone and ran towards the command truck, already talking animatedly to his counterpart.

The rest of team went to crowd around Spike, while Parker stayed behind with Braddock. Pointing at the wound on the General's temple, still oozing blood, Parker said, "You should have that tended to."

Braddock impatiently brushed off the advice. "Nah. It's just a graze. Nothing serious."

"You know, you're pretty damn lucky. Another inch and we would not even be talking right now."

"Tell me about it." The General nodded, looking down at his feet. "Sam may think I'm already dead, though."

"That's a possibility, yes."

"Knowing him, he might take actions into his own hands, thinking he got nothing else to lose."

"You should give your son more credit, sir. Sam is smart and a lot stronger than he shows, mentally and physically."

Braddock emitted a sad smile. "I know he is. But it's like a knee-jerk reaction to me whenever things concern him. That kid needs to be looked after."

"We are his team. We look after him, after each other," Parker firmly said. "Instead of lying, you should have just told him the truth. We could have worked something out."

Shaking his head, Braddock replied, "My first reaction when I got the intel about Matt blowing his cover was to take my son off the street and hide him in a safe house somewhere."

"If you had told us, we might have provided him that safe house."

"No offense, Parker. But I only trust myself over my children's safety. I've lost a daughter, I will not lose my only son." Braddock gave the Sergeant an intense gaze. "If it were _your_ kid, would you put your complete trust in other people to keep him safe?"

The Sergeant was about to contradict that, but he knew there was some truth in the General's words. If it were Dean who was in danger, Parker would not fully depend on someone other than himself to give him safety. It was pure fatherly instinct, to guard and protect. His approach may be different from Braddock's, but the end result would still be the same.

"Got it! I found him!" Spike suddenly gave out an exultant cry.

Parker and Braddock instantly rushed over to join the team at the command truck. "Where's the location, Spike?"

"A vacant shop lot in Pickering," replied Spike, rattling off the coordinates. "It's at the street where most of the surrounding businesses have either closed or moved out. Some of the buildings have been abandoned for months now."

"A perfect place to keep a prisoner in secret," Raf commented.

"Not anymore," said Ed, already moving towards their SUV. "Guys, let's move it. Spike, send those coordinates to our PDAs."

"Absolutely." Clicking away at his keyboard, Spike added, "I'll also send everyone the schematics of the target building."

"Very good, Spike," said the Sergeant as the rest of Team One along with Team Four spread out for their respective vehicles. "Let's figure out the best way of approach. We still don't know how many of these guys we'll be dealing with, so we had better get as much info as we can ASAP. Time is an essence, guys."

"Copy, Boss."

Parker raised his eyebrows when Braddock followed him into the command truck. "General?"

The military man gave him a look. "What, you don't think I'm going to sit aside twiddling my thumbs, do you? I'm coming along."

With a slight shrug, the Sergeant replied, "Sure. It's best that you come with us. Two heads are indeed better than one, but a ship needs only _one_ captain. Agreed?"

The General quickly wet his lips, a habitual gesture eerily identical to his son's. He grudgingly nodded, "Agreed."

Smiling, Parker patted his back. "Great. Now let's go save our boy!"

* * *

Sam didn't know how much time had passed. He only knew that it didn't matter to him anymore. What only mattered was if he could turn it back around. The past remained in the past, though. His father was dead, Matt was dead. They would never breathe again. And his own death would soon come, but he just didn't care. He felt nothing whatsoever, only numbness. It echoed in what he saw in Matt's dead gaze. Total emptiness. Deep, dark and ominous.

The door swung open and Rob hurriedly entered, looking more agitated than before. Giving Sam a hard glare, he snapped, "Right. Let's get back to it."

Sam ignored him, giving no signs of reaction. Frowning, Rob grabbed a fistful of Sam's hair and yanked his head backward. "You hear me, Braddock? You're gonna start talking because if you don't, we will make you suffer the same way your friend did. At first he seemed to enjoy it, but every man has his limit. Let's see how long you're gonna last."

A blank mute stare was Sam's only reaction, causing Rob's temper to flare up. He wrapped his hands around Sam's throat and started to squeeze.

"Rob," one of the men behind him said nervously as Sam's face swiftly turned purple, his eyes bulging.

"Rob, stop!" another man shouted. "You're killing him! We still don't have the codes, remember?"

Rob let Sam go with a growl of frustration. Wheezing and coughing, Sam struggled against his bonds as he instinctively tried to rub his throat. Then, almost tenderly, Rob cupped Sam's chin and nudged it upward until they looked straight into each other's eyes.

"I can kill you now, end your suffering. That's what you want, right? I'm not gonna give you the pleasure, though. So start talking, Braddock. Tell us what we want to know. What did Matt tell you?" Rob asked quietly. When no response came from his captive, he grinned in anticipation. "Fine. Be that way. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Turning to his men, Rob ordered, "Guys, string him up!"

Sam watched detachedly as they unwound the rope that tied him to the chair. When the restrains were finally undone, he jerked upright in a flash, ramming the top of his head against the nearest man's face. Howling with pain, the man toppled over as cartilage snapped and blood burst out of his nose.

Sam's wrists were still bound behind him, but he didn't stop moving. Spinning on the ball of his feet, he threw a back kick into the second man, sending the guy crashing against the wall. As he turned to face Rob next, a shocking current suddenly robbed his body of all control. Through his hazy vision, he saw Rob holding out a black plastic baton with a wide opening and steel teeth at one end, jamming it against Sam's side.

Sam jerked and spasm violently, as voltage of electricity sped throughout his entire limb and into the base of his skull. He dropped to the floor, twitching and shuddering as if in a throes of an epilepsy attack.

Shaking his head, Rob threw away the Taser baton and sent a look of disgust at his men. "Aw, stop whining, Ned! It's just a broken nose."

Cupping his nose with one hand, Ned said something in reply that sounded unintelligible. Rob had no patient for it. "Enough! String him up fast before he goes 'karate kid' on you again."

Sam was only half awake when they stripped him off his shirt and jeans, leaving him only in his underwear. As he slowly regained his full senses the men had dragged him into one corner of the room, which was a bathroom once. His arms were now tied high above him to the showerhead, leaving his feet dangling off the floor.

Smiling that wicked smile, Rob turned on the shower. Hot water instantly rained down on Sam, drenching him completely. Soon after, the water grew hotter. Much, much hotter, that it began to scald him, burning down on his exposed skin. Under the fiery rain Sam jerked and yanked at his bonds, dancing around to escape the scorching pain without much success. Near to boiling point, the heat became so unbearable that he began to scream.

"Ah, music to my ears," Rob was saying as if in bliss. "So, Braddock, anything comes to your mind now?"

Sam couldn't answer. He was too busy cursing and screaming himself hoarse.

With a flick of his wrist, Rob turned the shower tab until the water turned icy cold. Within seconds, Sam started to shake. The water was so frigid it nearly paralyzed him. As endurable as he was, his body was powerless against the drastically changing temperatures. It was quickly sending him into shock.

Amidst it all, Rob was sneering at him. "The codes, Braddock. Tell me the codes."

Wearily, Sam raised his head to glare at the man. "Up…yours."

Narrowing his eyes, Rob shot back, "No. Up yours, Braddock!"

Then he kneed Sam directly in the groin.

With a grunt, Sam folded over and lost consciousness.

**TBC…**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello, everyone. Just to let you all know that this is the finale.**

**I dedicate this chapter especially to all dedicated fathers out there. You pull us up when we fall down. You are the shield when we are in danger. You slay the dragons under our bed. You are our hero. HAPPY FATHER'S DAY.**

* * *

"It was supposed to be a routine op," Braddock senior was telling Sergeant Parker as the command truck sped towards Pickering. "Matt's only mission was to get in, get intel, get out. That was it."

"Then what went wrong?" asked Parker, wanting to find out more now that the General decided to open up a little.

"Matt got the intel, alright. But it was much bigger than we expected. He stumbled upon some vital information that could mean the life or death for millions of people."

"The missing nuclear warhead."

"Yes. The broken arrow, as we called it. Everything just went haywire. Before he could complete his real mission, Matt's true identity was discovered and he was almost killed. He was lucky to escape with his life intact, barely."

"If his mission was so highly confidential, how could he possibly blow his cover?"

"Because someone in our side betrayed us. And we still do not know who it was." Braddock pursed his lips, his expression a mixed reaction of anger and embarrassment. "When we decided to 'kill' Matt, we thought it better that he carried the intel to 'the grave'."

"So only he knows the code."

"Exactly. I can't trust anyone when a traitor is still at large among us. I can't even trust myself not to accidentally disclose that intel."

"And now, whoever the traitor is, has found out that Matt is still alive."

The General grimly responded, "Highly possibly he already has Matt in his clutches. And he will do anything to get Matt to spill up the codes. There are a lot of buyers out there for a nuclear warhead, if you must know."

"Oh, I know." Parker nodded. "And how does Sam fit in all this?"

Braddock ran an agitated hand through his still thick blond hair, a sure sign that his nerves were fraying at the seams. "Whether Sam was involved in the plot or not, to them he's just a leverage to get the codes. A collateral damage."

Parker squeezed the other man's shoulder. "Let's hope it will not come to that."

"Five minutes to target," Spike suddenly announced, making the already tense situation more ominous.

"Okay, guys. Initiate stealth approach," the Sergeant spoke through his radio, "Subjects are armed and dangerous, numbers indefinite. One known hostage, possibly two. Eddie, what's your take on this?"

Ed quickly yet thoroughly ran through the tactical steps Team One would take, ending with, "Team One will cover the black door and Team Four the white. You're good with that, Troy?"

"Hammer and anvil. Got it," confirmed the other team leader.

"Steady and cautious, everyone," said Parker. "Let's go get 'em!"

* * *

"Wake up, Braddock!"

Sam jerked back to consciousness when a sharp stinging blow landed on his back. The shower had been turned off by then and he was just hanging there, shaking from the cold.

"I said, wake up!" Rob shouted, as he swung the belt again. He had been whipping Sam with it for a full minute now. Only after the tenth blow that the captive finally opened his eyes to stare blearily back at him.

"That's better." Wrapping the belt around Sam's throat, Rob added, "Now pay attention. You had better talk and talk fast. I have no more time to fool around. So tell me, what are the codes?"

"I don't…kn…know." Sam choked as the belt grew tighter and tighter around his neck.

"What did Matt tell you?"

"Ngh…nuh…noth…ing…"

"I don't believe you. He must have told you something, now what is it?"

Due from the lack of air, Sam started to convulse. But Rob didn't seem to care.

"The codes, Braddock!" he yelled. "_Tell me the codes!_"

And then all hell just broke lose.

Two simultaneous explosions suddenly shook the building, followed by the sound of multiple gunfire. Alarmed, Rob looked to his men and shouted, "We're being breached! Get to your posts now!"

They all ran out of the room with their firearms raised, only to realize that the rest of their men who stood sentry were already overpowered. A horde of SRU officers with assault weapons were pouring in from the front and back, trapping them in between.

"Drop your weapon!" they yelled at Rob and his two men, "Do it now or we will shoot!"

Knowing the futility of their situation, Rob's cohorts reluctantly threw down their guns and surrendered. But not Rob. He rushed back into the room towards Sam, attempting to use him as hostage.

Only Sam was ready for him.

As Rob came near, Sam gathered all the energy he still had and yanked himself up to lash out a high kick, hitting the other man on the face. Stunned by the blow, Rob dropped his gun and stumbled. Not stopping there, Sam hooked one knee around Rob's neck and shoved the other foot against the man's jaw.

And that was when Ed rushed inside, followed by Raf and Sergeant Parker. "Sam!"

Putting more force against Rob's face, Sam spoke through gritted teeth. "I'll kill him."

"No, Sam. You won't," said Parker soothingly as he made his cautious approach. Sam looked like a caged animal about to attack. A wrong word said and he would snap.

"I can break his neck with just a twist of my foot," Sam continued to say, his eyes wild and burning with rage.

Raising his MP5 but not aiming at his teammate, Ed nodded. "We're sure you can. But you don't have to. It's over. He's done."

"He killed my Dad!"

"Your Dad is alright, Sam," Parker said, "He's fine."

A tear ran down Sam's white cheek as he sadly looked at them. "Don't lie to me. I can take no more lies."

"Would I lie to you?" Parker asked, taking a step closer. He blanched when he noticed the level of abuses that Sam's body had taken. He wondered how the young man could bear it all and was still able to talk. "Look at me, Sam. Am I lying to you here?"

Sam's lips were trembling as he gave his teammates a direct searching gaze. He saw that Parker meant what he said, but how could that be possible? He saw his father fell, he saw the blood on his head. How could he survive that?

His hold on Rob slowly began to lessen, but Sam was still in doubt. Until Braddock senior himself appeared at the door.

"Sammy?"

As Sam released Rob altogether, Ed and Raf quickly ran over and pushed the man onto the floor before cuffing him.

"We need the medics!" Parker was yelling as he and the General grabbed Sam around his naked torso and held him up, releasing the painful strains in his arms. As Rob was dragged away from the room by other SRUs, Raf and Ed worked together to cut Sam down from the shower head. The entire while, Sam could only stare at his father in great shock.

"You're…alive," he managed to say in a quiet voice as he stood wavering on his feet with their support.

Braddock senior shrugged sheepishly. "Yeah. Sorry to disappoint you."

"Disappoint me?" Sam echoed with a blink, his voice so low it was almost inaudible. He weakly glanced to the side, where Matt lay crumpled on the floor. Dead.

_He thinks he disappoints me for being alive?_

Red haze suddenly filled his vision. Without warning, he lashed out and slammed his fist into his father's face.

"You bastard! You stupid ungrateful bastard!" he screamed as he continued to throw punches.

"Sam! Sam!" the others cried out as they try to pry him off his father but Sam was in frenzy.

Still, for a man his age, General Braddock was agile on his feet. After the first punch, he twisted and twirled about to avoid his son's flying fists. With his jaw still stinging, he grabbed Sam's swinging arm and yanked it behind his son's back. Cursing, Sam backpedaled to throw his father off. He jerked his free elbow up, almost hitting the older man in the chin.

"Enough!" the General roared, wrapping an arm around Sam's neck from behind and dropped to the floor, bringing his son with him. Raf and Ed helped held Sam down but Braddock senior told them to back off, which they grudgingly did.

By then, Sam had already stopped struggling. The adrenaline rush had gone as sudden as it had come, and it left him completely drained and weakened. Unable to move, overcame by grief and physical agony, he sat slumped in his father's arms and began to weep.

"Oh, Sammy." The General sighed and embraced him tighter, his own eyes dampened with tears to hear the sound of his son's heartbreaking sobs. Turning to the others in the room, he implored, "Please, leave us."

Moved by the sudden vulnerability that the General is showing, Parker gave him an understanding nod. He ushered Raf and Ed out, giving the Braddocks some space of privacy. At the doorway, the Sergeant gave Matthew Walsh's lifeless body another sad look before turning back to gaze at Sam's bowed head buried against his father's chest.

The young Braddock had survived the night's atrocity, but there were still many more hard nights ahead. He would need a whole lot of resolve and willpower to survive them.

If anyone could do it, it would be Sam.

* * *

Team One walked down the hallway of St. Simon Hospital towards Sam's room. Their shift had ended a while ago, but they had to wrap up the scene and then sat for debrief. By the time they had finished, it was already two in the morning.

Reaching Sam's room, the team was quite surprised to see two military guards stood flanking the doorway. The General was not taking any chances then. Peering inside they saw him sitting next to the bed, his hand gently stroking his son's head. Sam was lying on his side, fast asleep.

Braddock senior raised his head, looking slightly embarrassed to be caught showing his soft side. Giving Sam's forehead another brush, he rose to his feet and approached the team with half a smile. "It's all done?"

"Done and wrapped up." Parker nodded. "How's Sam doing?"

After a brief glance at his son, Braddock turned back to them and said in a low voice, "He sleeps. _Finally_. I had to fight tooth and nail to make him agree to stay here. That's why I placed the sentry, to assure that he doesn't run away."

They all laughed softly at that, knowing how Sam felt about hospitals. Within the last two months alone, he had been hospitalized more than he had been in three years. No wonder he had been terribly anxious to be released.

Seeing the wistful look on Jules' face, Braddock inclined his head at her and said, "Go to him. He needs you."

Jules emitted a grateful smile and went to take the seat the General had just vacated. Sam stirred, so she squeezed his hand and whispered soothing noises into his ear until he settled back down.

"What did the doctor say?" Ed wanted to know. He had been aghast to see Sam's awful condition when they came to rescue him.

"The usual—concussions, abrasions, a couple of cracked ribs. To top it off, he also suffers first degree burns, mild hypothermia and bruises around his neck. But Sam is Sam. When I pointed out these injuries to him, he just told me he'll rub some dirt on them and move on." Braddock chuckled ruefully. "That kid can be too stubborn for his own good."

"Oh, yes. Indeed," Parker agreed with a grin. "Sam is strong, that's what he really is. No matter what have been done to him, he will pull through. Your son is not an easy man to bring down, General."

Braddock sighed, looking a little self-conscious. "I brought this whole disaster on him. If Sam had died, I…I could never forgive myself. I might have not been able to get him back alive without your help. For that, I thank you."

"No need to thank us, sir. Sam is one of us. We protect our own," Spike was saying. "In fact, he doesn't need to be in our team to get to be rescued. It's our job. We save everyone."

"Connect, respect, protect. I hear you." Braddock stood a little straighter as he noticed two military officers approaching. "Okay, I'm afraid I should be going. My ride is here."

Raf's eyes widened. "You're leaving now?"

With a shrug, the older man said, "I have to, my job is still not done. There's the matter of Sergeant Matthew Walsh's body to be taken care of. He died a hero once and he died again tonight saving my son. Someone's head will surely roll for this."

"You're talking about the traitor in your midst," said Parker.

Braddock nodded. "We're going to apprehend this man who has been selling info to the highest bidders."

"You already know who he is?"

"We traced all calls which Rob, the leader of the hostile group, has made and received within the last forty-eight hours. It didn't take a genius to find out who has been his main contact. Sadly to say, it _is_ one of our own. He's outside the loop of my immediate black ops team, but close enough that he can get ahold on some vital materials. If found guilty he will get the just punishment for his treason. Mark my words on that."

As they shook hands in farewell, Braddock sincerely told Greg, "I stand corrected, Parker. Of my son's safety, it's not only me that I trust now. I also trust you and your entire team. Thank you again for rescuing him."

"Our pleasure to help."

Returning to Sam's bed, the General reached over to squeeze his son's foot through the blanket. He then told Jules, "Get Sammy to bring you to our family dinner soon. My wife is dying to meet you."

She blushed. "Thanks. I will, sir."

Giving Sam a last concerned gaze, General Braddock nodded at Team One and went out the door where he was joined by the two military officers. Those men immediately had their heads close together, discussing something in whispers while quickly walking away.

Parker and the others exchanged knowing looks.

"Well, General Badass is back in the office," Ed dryly commented, coming near to the bed. As he watched his sleeping teammate, his face softened. "Sam looks so vulnerable now, doesn't he?"

"Vulnerable yet lethal," Parker said, sitting in the other available chair. "You saw how badly they've hurt him, and still he came up swinging. I really thought he was going to snap the man's neck like a twig."

"Me too." Raf was shaking his head as he joined Spike to sit on the window ledge. "For a while there I feared I had to shoot _him_ for harming his captor. That would be twisted, man."

"That's why we called him Samtastic!" Spike laughed, and then quickly sobered when Sam moved restlessly in the bed. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Oops, sorry. Should we leave and let him sleep in peace?"

"I'm not leaving him, not tonight," Jules replied with a shake of her head.

"I'm staying," Parker announced as he soothingly patted Sam's back until the younger man's breathing even out once more.

"So am I," said Ed, walking towards the door. "I'm gonna get some extra chairs in here."

Spike shrugged and moved to follow Ed. "Might as well help you because I'm staying too. There's nothing fun to do at home for me anyway."

And so that night, even after their shift was fully over, Team One spent the following hours as a unit to give solace to their wounded friend. Sam's erratic dreams were plagued by the recent dreadful things he had suffered, but his loyal teammates were always there to chase the demons away.

* * *

"Whoa, Samtastic! What the hell are you doing here? You're supposed to be on medical leave," Spike exclaimed when Sam walked into HQ three days later.

Sam just grinned. "How am I going to recover fast by being holed up at home like a hibernating bear and just sit staring at the walls? I'd rather come here and watch you all gallivanting crazily about without me. Should be fun. Laughter is the best medicine, they said."

"Ha ha ha. Funny," said Ed, slapping Sam in the back none too gently. "You learn that while reading the women's magazine that Jules brought you?"

"Touché," Jules responded with a smile before she gave Sam a hug. "Hey, there. You didn't tell me you're coming in today."

"I didn't plan this, believe me," Sam replied, releasing her. "I suddenly got bored with nothing better to do. I know I'm still not cleared to join you guys out there but maybe I can make myself busy with something else, like helping Winnie man the dispatch calls."

"What, you trying to take over my job now, Sam?" the pretty dispatcher asked in mock horror from behind her station.

They all laughed at that and Parker said, "If Sam mans the calls, suddenly there would be a huge spike in the numbers of young and lonely female callers."

"And Jules is going to get real jealous," Raf teased.

"She's gonna shoot Sam in the ass just to let out some steam," Ed added, causing Jules to stuck her tongue at him.

"Then everything will go back to square one before it starts all over again!" Spike concluded, adding to their mirth. Sam and Jules looked at each other and simply blushed at the ribbing, being the good sports that they were.

As their laughter died down, Winnie remembered something. "Oh, Sam. You received a mail yesterday."

"Really? But I never put the HQ as my mailing address."

Winnie shrugged. "I don't know about that. Anyway, here it is. A postcard."

That caused Sam to frown. "A postcard? Is it from Paris?"

"Why Paris?" Raf asked.

"Oh, Natalie is on vacation there right now. She—" The moment Sam saw the postcard, his heart skipped a beat. It was not from Paris. Wherever it came from, the postcard was not sent by his younger sister.

"Sam, what's wrong?" Parker asked, concerned to see the young Braddock turned a shade paler.

Staring at the postcard, at the image of the fallen Berlin Wall with the Bradenburg Gate in the background, Sam had to swallow hard before he could answer, "I know who sent this."

"Who?" his teammates simultaneously asked him.

"It's from Matt."

They were shocked, of course. "Are you saying that he's still…"

"No, Matt is dead, no doubt about it. His death is not a stage this time because I saw it with my own eyes." Sam shook his head and started to explain, "Matt and I went to Germany together once. He decided to bring home some souvenirs for his sister, Michaela, and so he bought her a bunch of postcards. I picked this one for her myself. Michaela is supposed to keep this in a cardboard box with the rest of her postcards collection."

"So that's why Matt came out of hiding and returned here, to get this particular postcard," Ed said, as he finally understood. "But why did he do that, when he knew he was endangering himself?"

"He wanted to send me a message," Sam softly said, remembering Matt's last words seconds before he died.

_I'll send you a postcard_.

"I believe he sent this to me before he was captured."

"What is written there?" Jules was curious to know.

Sam was already scanning the back. "Except for my name and the address, he wrote nothing else. The writing was indeed his. I'll recognize that chicken-scrawl anywhere."

"What message could he convey if that's all that he wrote?"

No answers from Sam, for he was intently scrutinizing the stamp at the top left, a local postage. And then without a word, he gingerly peeled the stamp off. His team watched, fascinated, when Sam revealed what lay beneath.

A tiny microchip.

"Is that what I think it is?" Parker was stunned.

Sam looked grim as he held up the thing for them to see. "Only one way to find out. Spike, can you help me with this?"

"Absolutely!" Taking the microchip from Sam, Spike ran towards his computers in the briefing room. It took him a few minutes to get hook up with some supporting gadgets only he knew what. After several keystrokes, the screen was filled with variation list of numbers.

"Good God," was all Spike managed to say as they stared at the screen in sheer awe.

"What do you think the numbers stand for?" Raf shoot the question at no one in particular.

"Coordinates and the activation codes for the missing nuclear warhead," Sam answered. He was deeply touched by Matt's complete trust in him with such deadly information. "Matt knew he has been made and tried to get rid of the microchip before it falls into the wrong hands."

"And so he sent it to you because he trust that you will know what to do," Ed commented, patting Sam's shoulder.

"Yes, I do." Sam nodded. He pulled out his cell phone and started dialing. "My Dad's gonna crap in his pants when he hears about this."

To his teammates, that was the funniest line Sam had said in days and they all burst out laughing.

As Sam made the call, they crowded around him like a shield. If what they had stumbled upon was indeed the codes to the 'broken arrow', so the threat on Sam's life was far from over. No matter what the danger he would face, they would all face it together as a team, as a unit.

As a family.

Because that's what Team One truly was.

**THE END**

* * *

**Well, that's the end of this fic. Hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing it. Thanks soooooooooooooooooooo much for reading! To those who spent a bit of time by giving your reviews, I wish I could send chocolates to you as a sign of 'thank you'. Hehe…**

**Wait. Is this the end of this fic? **

**Hmm…Let's see.**

**Plot bunnies, what do you think? Really? You're sure? Okay, then. We'll talk later, plot bunnies.**

**See ya, guys! Adromir has left the building! **


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